Nowhere Home
by Kuri-the-Kreep
Summary: A snippet focusing on Brian Kinney at age 16 dealing with issues at home. Rated T for language. Criticism is welcomed.


His legs were burning as his feet led him to his destination. But his mind was numb, as well as most of his body. Snow was falling haphazardly, the wind making it worse as it forced icy shards into his skin.

Life was fucked, and everyone who tried and say different were idiots.

Anger began to seep into the complete chaos that had taken control of his body for the past half hour, giving him some sort of perspective on exactly what the hell he was doing. Walking across town barefoot, with barely anything to shield himself from the cold, Brian Kinney realized it hadn't been one of his better ideas. In fact, he could have thought of a million other ways he'd rather spend his Christmas break than being in the middle of Liberty Avenue during a storm.

"It isn't far", was what he'd repeated in his mind since he'd literally escaped from his house. He would have laughed at how pathetic it was, had he not been so infuriated. Had he of been able to brush it off like he had so many times in the past few years. Instead, he'd left with the sound of his father's yelling echoing in the streets. He'd ran until he couldn't hear it anymore, until he couldn't hear anything except his pulse pounding in his ears.

Now, finally where he wanted to be, the teen froze. Debbie and Mikey were probably in there, making fucking cookies or whatever they did during the "merry" holidays. His body started to ache as he stood there, reminding him that he was only a few more inches away from a warm home. Something in him twisted at that sentiment, and he hesitantly took a step, then another, to the edge of the porch. That's what he wanted, this place to be for him. As much as it was for Debbie and Michael, and now Vic. He wanted it to be his home.

Rage filled the emptiness he felt in his chest, and he turned around. It was stupid of him to come here. No one needed him raining on their parade, he knew that much. He started to walk back into the street when his legs trembled, threatening to give out on him. A bit shakily, he kept on.

This isn't your house. This isn't your family.

He got as far as the wire fence before his legs really did give out, forcing him to grab the metal bar for leverage. "Fuck..." He closed his eyes. This was nothing. Pain was nothing. He needed to get away from this house.

"Brian Kinney, what the fuck are you doing!" He eyelids snapped open and he looked up to see Debbie's worried face. He attempted a smirk and was met with resistance from the frozen muscles in his face.

"Don't worry Deb... just passing by." He stood up away from the fence and took about half a step before he felt the scorching heat that was Debbie against his body.

"Like hell you are, you little shit!" She screamed, pulling his arm around her with surprising strength. It was hard to argue with the lady in normal circumstances, and it was especially so when she was offering a warm house and something he was sure he'd never find in his.

* * *

"Thankfully I was able to get off my shift when I did! What the hell did you think you were doing!" Debbie yelled, her voice making Brian's ears ring louder than they already were. "God only knows what would have happened... you little shit!" Despite her anger, she was careful not to throw hot chocolate into Brian's face, for which he was thankful for.

"You done?" He asked, taking the cup into his hands, it wasn't too hot for him to hold, though he could barely manage that with how cold his fingers were. Debbie had him wrapped in a comforter and forced him to sit on the couch was on the couch. Michael sat next to him, looking worried. He gave the other a small smile, and received one in return.

"No I am not!" She ran back and forth from the kitchen as she talked, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and dumping them in the cup Brian held. Putting her hands on her hips, she let out a sigh and kept her eyes on him for a while, as if deciding what to do with him. She was still in her clothes from the Red Robin Diner; they were tacky and unflattering. Then again, Deb wasn't put on the Earth to flatter anyone, so why should what she wore be any different?

After a few more moments, she leaned over, gave him one of the sweetest smiles he'd seen, and then spoke her next words very softly.

"If you want to kill your god damn self, do it away from people who care about you, huh?" And with that, he received a small smack, to the side of his head. He watched her retreat to the kitchen, no doubt to start on those fucking cookies.

"Yes, mother."

* * *

Brian was curled up to Michael in the bed. He was cold, and despite his small efforts to resist the other, the Novotny's seemed to win him over for the second time that night. No one had asked why he was there, or even about the black eye and busted lip he now sported. It had helped him to forget everything for a few hours while they watched holiday specials on the TV and ate sugar cookies. Vic had joined them, talking about past Christmas parties with Debbie, adding in his own take on the hot guys at said parties. Vic was a really cool, down-to-earth guy. He was the kind of person you couldn't hate. A lot like Michael.

He had his head on the other's chest, and could hear his heart beat irradically. It was cute, but at the moment he had his mind on other things. So did his friend, it seemed.

"So... what happened?" Michael's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Brian couldn't help but laugh. He wasn't even sure what had happened. His brow furrowed as he focused on one of the pictures pinned up on one of the bedroom walls. They were sixteen, yet Michael still loved Captain Astro, Brian had a feeling he always would. A ghost of a smile went across his face until he focused back on Michael's question.

"Saint Joan tried to have a 'nice family dinner'. She can't cook worth shit... You're lucky to have Deb, she's not so bad." Brian licked his lips, a tangy flavour in the crevice where his dad had busted it. "Jack came home. Drunk. As usual, no big deal." He snorted, a crooked smile on his lips. "Fuck. I started to talk back because he was being an ass. I mean, the food was shit but... Well, being the gratuitous bitch she is, she started yelling at me. ''He works hard to provide for this family Brian! You should respect him!' What a fucking joke."

He felt the muscles in his face tighten as he recounted it.

"I... Him and me started going at it. I should have just fucking let it go." He laughed again, his eyes beginning to sting annoyingly. Don't fucking cry Kinney. "He said the usual shit. He didn't want me. Heh... 'You got a lot to learn about the world, Sonny Boy..." Brian's voice cracked and he felt a large lump in his throat. If he had thought things through he could have probably found some action... somewhere... he found sex always helped him forget. But... no.. He had to come here, like a dumbass...

"Fuck, it doesn't matter." He sighed, and closed his eyes. He would be fine. Nothing could make him cry if he just kept it together.

He felt a kiss on the top of his head. He felt felt his face twitch. Fuck Michael for caring. He hated pity. He was angry at himself, at Jack... He gripped MIchael's shirt in his hand, trying his best to hold back, hating himself for not being able to.

And Michael sat there, running a hand through his hair and kissing the top of his head every now and then.

Brian Kinney. Pathetic.

"Stop. It's not your fault."

* * *

I originally was going to write a story about Emmit, but then I was in a bad mood, and this came out instead. To me, Brian is a very emotional character. In the series he's older and has a good hold on his emotions. In this I just wanted to show that rare vulnrability that he has from time to time and how he would handle it at sixteen. I hope I did some justice to his character, and that you all enjoy it.


End file.
